


Sunshine Riptide

by corgasbord, idaate



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Character Study, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrated Fic, Multi, Spoilers, Virtual Reality, a lil bit, vr au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 04:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15878430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corgasbord/pseuds/corgasbord, https://archiveofourown.org/users/idaate/pseuds/idaate
Summary: There’s a meteor shower tonight. How could he have forgotten about that? The days may now blur together enough that he has trouble keeping track of them as they pass, but he recalls being excited about it recently. It’s something to look forward to, a break in the static that’s filled his life since… what, almost three years ago? In other words, for far too long.-After the fact, Kaito hosts a bonfire to watch a meteor shower alongside the people he survived a killing game with. Some people are a bit more reluctant to show up than others.[ illustrated by tumblr user ministarfruit ]





	Sunshine Riptide

Kaito awakens to the same two things he does every morning: a shrill beeping in his ears and something wet stroking his face.

As always, the latter needs to be addressed first. Eyes still screwed shut, he turns his face away from the source of the sensation and swats blindly in front of him until his hands meet a solid, fuzzy mass. “Ack— Down, girl,” he splutters, only to get his lips swiped at instead. “Okay, okay, I love you too, cut it out—”

He finally manages to shove the offender off of him and pull himself up, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes before blinking them open. His hulking husky crossbreed blinks her bright blue eyes back at him, shifting her weight around like it’s taking everything in her not to pounce on him again. He shakes his head with a little smile that’s equal parts groggy and fond, limply lifting one hand to rest between her triangular ears. “Morning, Orion.”

Then he leans over to shut off the alarm blaring from the clock on his bedside table. Dimly, he registers the neon red numbers on its digital face that read 7:01 AM—roughly the same time that he forces himself up every morning. All according to routine.

Half-consciously, his features pull into something of a wince. Routine, structure, order. That’s all he knows anymore. It’s drained the excitement out of living, yet at the same time has become a reason for him to wake up every morning. Everything happens the same way, one day bleeding into the next, the passage of time all but forgotten because it doesn’t matter.

Get up. Stretch. Go to the bathroom. Brush his teeth. Shave, if necessary. Dress himself. Style his hair. Feed Orion. Feed himself. Go for a run. One thing at a time, directly after the other, always in the same order. It’s too comfortable, almost, an empty sort of lull.

Maybe he’s become resigned to order because it’s preferable to the chaos of the simulated killing game he was put through. Maybe it’s because he’s used to it after spending months in a hospital after the fact, stuck in one place even after all of his friends had recovered because he’d had an illness that needed treatment since long before he was himself. The disease that had eaten away at his lungs is gone now, but sometimes he has to wonder if it ate another part of him, too. He’s not the same. If he goes through the motions, though, if he does what he can to take care of himself and his own, then he’ll be close enough.

He shuffles to the bathroom to begin the cycle and stares himself down in the mirror for a few moments. His eyes are still a bit glazed, and he rubs them again to wipe away the remaining sleep sand. His hair falls unevenly around his face and tickles the back of his neck. Stubble is starting to creep farther up his jawline. Absently, he runs a hand down from his cheek and thinks that it's scruffier than normal, but he can put off shaving for now. Perhaps the next time he does it he'll cut his hair while he's at it.

In the meantime, he decides that he looks fine. Functional. It works. He brushes his teeth, throws on a tank top and denim shorts, drags a wet comb through his hair until it stops snagging, all the little things that he knows he has to do. The one thing he forgoes is hair gel, which he’d taken to using less and less often since the game ended.

Orion lies patiently at the foot of the bed and watches him complete his morning directives, head settled on her front paws. She seems to know his routine as well as he does, and she bolts up as soon as he exits the bathroom a final time because she knows food is coming. Kaito always pours a bowl of kibble for her first, and then a bowl of cereal for himself because it’s the simplest possible thing he could make and he has to eat _something_. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day and all that.

He’s two bites into a bowl of some fruity knock-off brand cereal with too much milk when he hears his phone ringing from his room. Normally he wouldn’t bother getting up to grab it, but he recognizes the ringtone as the one he’s set for Shuuichi, so after cramming another spoonful into his mouth he walks the few paces it takes to retrieve and answer it.

“Hey, Shuuichi,” he says, mouth still full. Not a wise move. A couple trickles of milk escape down his chin, which he hastily rubs out of his goatee with a frown.

“Ah, Momota-kun,” Shuuichi replies, sounding tentative. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

He’s probably able to tell that Kaito’s eating. Kaito covers his mouth and swallows hurriedly before assuring Shuuichi, “Nah, it’s all good. What’s up, man?”

“I was just calling to confirm when and where we’re meeting up tonight,” Shuuichi says, a little more relaxed now, like he had only needed permission to keep talking. “I mean, not that I think you’d go changing it on such short notice, but a couple of the others were wondering about it too. Plus, uh, I figured that even though the shower doesn’t start until later tonight, we’d probably want to head there a bit earlier if we want to get a bonfire set up…”

Kaito’s brows furrow. Shower. _What is he talking about?_ It takes a couple of seconds for him to connect the word to any existing memory of prior engagements, and Shuuichi is still talking but when it clicks Kaito blurts a loud, sudden “Oh!”

Shuuichi immediately cuts himself off, quiet for a few seconds. “Um. Momota-kun…?”

Kaito yanks his focus back to the present. “Sorry, uh— just remembered something. Don’t worry about it,” he says quickly with a little shake of his head. “Anyway, I didn’t go changing our plans or anything, so you can tell everyone to come to the spot we first agreed on. Sound good?”

“Oh. Of course, that’s all I wanted to ask.” Shuuichi sounds a bit lost, but he continues, “I’ll call to remind everyone else, then. See you at around, uh… eight o’clock?”

“Perfect. See you then,” Kaito affirms, then ends the call, feeling his mouth pull his cheeks up hard enough that they ache. With renewed energy, he strides back out into the kitchen and returns to his breakfast, brain buzzing with one thought and one thought only.

There’s a meteor shower tonight. How could he have forgotten about that? The days may now blur together enough that he has trouble keeping track of them as they pass, but he recalls being excited about it recently. It’s something to look forward to, a break in the static that’s filled his life since… what, almost three years ago? In other words, for far too long.

If he’s being honest with himself (and he usually isn’t), he doesn’t know himself as well as he used to. Reconciling separate past lives, distinguishing fiction from reality, has been something difficult for everyone. One thing that he’s clung to despite it all is his yearning for whatever lies beyond the world he’s trapped in, a place he’s been forced to accept that he’ll never reach. The opportunity to see something so rare as the extraterrestrial falling to kiss the horizon is something he wouldn’t dream of passing up.

Orion has already finished eating, and she sits back on her haunches, licking her chops and observing him as he nearly chokes himself on his cereal and downs the milk in the bowl with it. He resurfaces with a decidedly wet grin and gets to his feet, noncommittally dragging the back of his hand over his mouth. _Today is gonna be a good day_ , he tells himself, not for the first time, but it feels different now. More honest.

Then he flashes his smile down at Orion and jerks his head in the direction of the door. “All right, girl. You ready to go for a run?”

And all at once, Orion seems just as excited as he is.

-

Today, Kaito runs down the beach with Orion.

Most of the time, he walks down the beach with Orion with his shoes placed further up the shore to prevent both the sand from getting in them and the waves from lapping them up. Orion’ll either dash ahead and occasionally come trotting back to him before sprinting off again or pad by his side, nuzzling his hand every once in a while for some pets.

Sometimes, if it’s one of those days where he stares into the mirror and has to push down the bile in his throat, he goes jogging. It’s different than running because when he runs there’s enjoyment in the activity, but there’s no joy in putting one foot in front of the other. It’s like walking except faster, and Kaito can’t decide if he hates the burn in his chest after the jog or loves it for all the wrong reasons.

And today, Kaito runs down the beach with Orion. It’s not walking because it’s not slow and it’s not jogging because it isn’t for exercise, it’s running and he’s _enjoying_ it.

He’s not so melodramatic as to say that he doesn’t enjoy anything at all anymore, to say that he can’t find even a speck of happiness amid a stormy sea of depression and bad thoughts, but there’s a certain feeling dredging him down most of the time nonetheless. Genuine joy isn’t something that he finds himself stumbling through often.

Orion runs circles around his legs, and Kaito knows that he isn’t exactly setting a good pace for himself but he doesn’t quite care either.

The dog darts away from him and into the water, and Kaito doesn’t feel a moment of hesitation as he runs in after her, bare feet splashing into the water and soaking the ends of his shorts. Orion jumps circles around him and he laughs, reaching out to her only for her to dart out of his reach once more.

He proceeds to chase her for a few more minutes, sputtering but still laughing as seawater splashes into his mouth and all over his clothes. It ends with Orion running through his legs, causing him to lose his balance and fall ass first into the water.

For a moment, all he can do is sit as the water laps at the edges of his face, idly thinking about how it’s good he doesn’t spend an hour throwing gel in his hair anymore because otherwise this would be a _fairly_ major disappointment. But good for him! He’s far too depressed to do that anymore, so the water can mess up his hair as much as it likes.

He lets out one last wheezing sigh as Orion pads over and nuzzles his face with her big wet nose, making him smile and tilt his head back to greet her.

“Aaah, and here I was thinking that there was actually hope for the whole pollution problem the ocean’s facing. But what with trash like you laying around...I guess the situation is pretty, how should I say this, fucked.”

Kaito pulls his head from the water to find himself facing the one and only Kokichi Ouma, standing at the edge of the shore with a curl in his lip. Normally, Kaito’d feel a flush of shame rise up over his face, what with being caught in a situation like this by someone like _Kokichi,_ but he can’t find himself caring all that much at the moment. Maybe it’s the joy-high.

He pulls up a dripping wet hand to wave-salute at Kokichi. “Yo,” he says, and Kokichi’s lip only curls further.

 _“Yo,_ is that all you can spare for your long-lost lover?” Kokichi brings a hand to his forehead, pulling down his celebrity style shades and sighing overdramatically. “Ah, Momo-chan, you really know how to break someone’s heart.”

Kaito props himself up on his elbows. “So your long-lost lover is a piece of trash polluting the ocean, according to you. At least you’re self-aware of your taste.”

Kokichi snorts. “It was a one-sided attraction on your par— _h-hey!”_

Kokichi’s cut off as Orion leaps from the ocean water and barrels into him, soaking fur and all. Orion’s a big dog and Kokichi, despite the three years he’s had the time to do so, has not grown an inch since the killing game and is still a bit of a short stack. Orion’s more than enough to knock him over and Kaito can’t help but laugh as Kokichi finds himself sprawled out on the beach’s sand, one hand supporting himself and one fending off Orion’s attempts to cover him in slobber and sea water.

Kokichi’s sunglasses had been knocked off in the process, and so Kaito slowly pushes himself to his feet and picks them up himself to the chorus of Kokichi’s protests. “Orion, heel, _heel—_ ” he says more firmly when she whines, but she obeys nonetheless and sits herself down on the sand, tail thumping and spraying water everywhere.

“Gross,” says Kokichi, “gross gross gross Momo-chan I’m going to get rabies and die you and your disgusting dog are both filthy and _gross.”_ He spits and flaps his hands in the air, some sort of attempt to get himself clean, and all Kaito can do is laugh at the image of Kokichi with his sand-filled and soggy hair all sticking out in a bunch of different ends.

Kaito can’t make himself stop laughing even as Kokichi glares up at him, a deep pout on his face as he says, “Is this a game to you, Momo-chan?” and swipes the sunglasses from his grip.

“It’s been a while,” says Kaito instead of addressing Kokichi’s question, determined to keep his mood light. “A long while.”

“Not long enough if you’re asking me!” Kokichi stands up and dusts off his khakis as he glares at Orion. “When’d you get the ugly mutt?”

Orion growls. Kokichi glares. Kaito says, “Uh, a year or two ago…? Orion’s a rescue dog and all that. Anyway,” Kaito’s determined not to let either Kokichi or Orion derail his mood, “I wasn’t sure if you’d end up coming or not, so I’m really pumped you’re here!”

Kokichi looks up. “What?”

“Coming to the meteor shower,” Kaito says, an inkling of fear being to bud in his chest. “That’s... why you came, right?”

“Mmm just cause I’m here doesn’t mean I’m going to see it, dumbass.” Kokichi hops a little as Orion snaps at his heels from where she sits. “And you have to say it would be rather, ah, _Oumacore_ to just come here to spite you and then leave when it actually matters, yeah?”

“I,” Kaito scratches the back of his head, wincing as he realizes how much sand got picked up in his hair, “honestly. I’m gonna try not to think on that too hard because I really have no idea with you.”

“Of course someone like you doesn’t want to think,” Kokichi pouts. “But it’s true. I’m not going to your stupid sentimental meteor shower reunion or whatever that you’re organizing on some stupid whim—”

“It’s not a whim!” Kaito cuts in indignantly. “These things happen only once every couple years! Or, well,” he pauses, reasserting himself, “meteor showers don’t happen once every couple years, they happen several times a year, but it isn’t that often that we get to see one another and this meteor shower can be seen really well by the beach here which doesn’t happen often and— _”_

 _“Cool._ Wonderful,” Kokichi says in a tone that implies he does not think the facts Kaito are saying are cool or wonderful. “Momo-chan, I think the past couple years must have been _especially_ hard on your fragile little memory because you seem to forget exactly how little of a shit I give about any of that.” He inhales. “Anyway, if I was a nice person this was where I’d say it was good to see you after all this time and how I’m glad to see you’re doing well and how I wish only the best for you, etcetera etcetera, but we both know I’m not a nice person, so!” He smiles and waves cheekily. “Thanks for the laugh, Momo-chan! I’ll be seeing you around, or not, one of us might die before then after all!”

“H-hold on,” Kaito protests. “There's— Wait. You have to come to the meteor shower.”

“Do I?” Kokichi bats his annoyingly long lashes. “Hm. Says who?”

“Says me,” says Kaito, “and, like, _everyone’s_ going to be there.”

“Everyone ever?” Kokichi gapes. “Shinzō Abe!”

 _“No!_ Jesus Christ, Ouma…”

“Jesus is going to be there?! Why didn’t you say s— _”_

“Jesus is not going to be at the reunion but Shuuichi is,” says Kaito, exasperated, “and so is Yumeno and Iruma and Harumaki and Hoshi and the rest of the gang. Though, like, if you’re gonna be weird about it you don’t have to talk or hang with anyone, as long as you’re...there?” He hates how his voice tilts up at the last bit, and he bites his tongue. “Listen, it’d just be important if you were there, and the meteor shower looks _really_ nice and Iruma’s bringing these things called ‘marshmallows’ back from the US and it’s going to be really cool, so. Yeah.”

“Wow, Momo-chan,” says Kokichi, “that was a really, _really_ terrible attempt at trying to convince me to come.”

“Fuck you,” says Kaito tiredly.

“Buuuut…” Kokichi swings back and forth on his heels, “maybe I’ll try not to get arrested after I raid the local candy store and forget my wallet but take my purchase anyway. Ciao!”

As usual, talking to Kokichi ends up in a headache, and Kaito pinches his nose and breathes in for a moment as Kokichi skips away over the beach’s sandy expanse. “Well,” Kaito says to Orion besides him determinedly, “we just have to make it such a good get together that even Ouma can’t find anything bad to say about it.”

Orion barks.

“You’re right,” agrees Kaito, “that is kinda impossible.”

-

Kaito hasn't looked into the legality of setting up bonfires on beaches, nor does he particularly care to. No one ever visits this remote stretch of the coast _—_ it's why he's made it his home to begin with—and he's always found it easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, anyway. Besides, it won't be a proper party without dramatic lighting, and a bonfire is the most dramatic lighting he can think of short of fireworks. He doesn't have fireworks, but he does have plenty of driftwood to burn.

Gathering the driftwood is Maki’s job. Shuuichi's job is to clear the area to make sure that the fire will stay contained. Kaito's job, of course, is to do a bit of both on top of directing the whole endeavor, because even after all this time they're still his sidekicks. Shuuichi teases Kaito when he slacks and Maki gripes that he hasn't changed a bit and Kaito laughs it off, as he always does. Orion's run off somewhere, but he isn't too worried about that because she always returns, faithful as the sunrise.

Instead, the encounter he had earlier won't leave his mind.

It shouldn't bother him. Kokichi has always been this way, after all. He's cagey and rude and exactly as obnoxious as Kaito remembers from the last time they saw each other months ago. Three years didn't change him for the better, if it changed him at all.

He wonders if he was hoping for better. He shakes the thought out of his head just as quickly as it came, though, because that would be the same thing as hoping for a miracle.

 _The impossible is possible, huh._ He snorts.

“Momota-kun?”

Kaito snaps to attention at the sound of his sidekick’s soft voice and molds his face into a bright plastic smile. “What's up, Shuuichi?”

Shuuichi steps closer, the bucket he's been using to collect debris awkwardly hitting against his thigh. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks, brows creased with concern. “You've kind of been zoning out.”

“Oh, have I?” Kaito lets out a dismissive laugh. “Sorry about that. You don't have to worry though, I'm fine—fuck, I'm _great._ Just can't stop thinking about how excited I am, y'know?”

Shuuichi’s features soften a bit. “I see,” he says. “I guess it is pretty exciting, but… I wouldn't blame you if you're getting a bit nervous about seeing everyone else in one place after all this time, too.”

“Nervous? Me?” Kaito scoffs. “Like hell I'd be nervous about something like this. I mean, this is something to celebrate, right?”

“It's fine to be nervous about good things, too,” Shuuichi says. “I mean, I'm a little nervous, myself.”

“Oh.” Kaito cups the back of his own neck, rubbing somewhat sheepishly. “Well— you shouldn't be nervous,” he continues after a moment, decisive. “You know why? Because it's gonna be great. Everything's gonna go just the way it should in the end.”

He doesn't like the knowing look Shuuichi levels at him. Shuuichi's gotten good at reading in between the lines Kaito cracks to find the unspoken truth behind them—just what one should expect of a former detective, even if Shuuichi has since distanced himself from that title as much as he can.

“I'm sure it'll go fine,” Shuuichi agrees, laying a placating hand on Kaito's arm. “But in the meantime, if something's on your mind you can tell me. Or Harukawa-san,” he tilts his chin towards where Maki is picking up brittle strips of wood farther up the beach. “I'm sure she’d be willing to listen.”

“Nah. Like I said, nothin’ to worry about,” Kaito says, drawing his shoulders back with something closer to his authentic grin. He slaps Shuuichi on the back hard enough to make him stumble and adds, “Let's just do our best to make this a good time for now, yeah?”

Shuuichi smiles in return, gentle and a little flustered after being caught off-balance. “Yeah.”

As he turns to get back to work, though, Kaito clears his throat. “By the way. You were the one getting in touch with everyone, right? Do you know if all the others are coming?”

Shuuichi pensively shifts his weight between his legs. “Well, most of the others did RSVP, yes,” he says. “Iruma-san is a little flaky, and Hoshi-kun normally prefers to keep to himself, but they said they would try to come. I couldn't get in touch with Shirogane-san, but Akamatsu-san said she would probably show up, too.” He toes a bit at the sand as he adds, “The only person I couldn't reach at all is Ouma-kun, so… who knows.”

“I saw him earlier,” Kaito says, before he can stop to think whether or not he really wants Shuuichi to know that.

Shuuichi's eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

“Yeah. He was here.” Kaito slides his gaze over to the gray waves, watching them collide with the shoreline as if their tossing will clear his head. “I was just out for my morning run with Orion, and he showed up and started spouting nonsense, like always.”

“Oh,” Shuuichi says. “Well… that means he'll probably show up too, then.”

Kaito shrugs. “Maybe. I tried convincing him, but he kept going on about how boring it all sounded and how he wasn't gonna bother coming. Couldn't tell if he was lying or not, but,” he looks back at Shuuichi with renewed determination and brings his fists together at the knuckles, “if he does show up I'm totally gonna prove him wrong!”

There's a new understanding in Shuuichi's eyes when they meet Kaito's, as if he's just solved a puzzle. “I think,” he says slowly, “Ouma-kun probably will come. He likes to do that—popping in and out without warning. And I doubt he could resist a challenge.”

“Well, not like it matters in the end, one way or the other,” Kaito says, because it shouldn't matter and he shouldn't care and he doesn't know why he does. “I can't make him come. All I can do is make sure he doesn't regret it if he does.”

Shuuichi laughs quietly, and Kaito pouts. “What, did I say something funny?”

“Ah, not really,” Shuuichi says, despite the way his eyes are crinkling at the corners. “I just couldn't help noticing… mm, nevermind.”

“No, tell me,” Kaito insists. “What’d you notice?”

Shuuichi’s head tips a bit to the side. “Well, it's just… you still talk about him the same way. Like he's your friend and he just doesn't know it yet.”

Kaito snorts. “Yeah, right. I'm pretty sure that guy’s doing everything he can to not have friends. Pain in the ass.”

“Maybe,” Shuuichi says. “But you don't seem to be letting that stop you.”

“‘Dunno what you're talking about,” Kaito says, folding his arms over his chest. “I'm just proving I'm right, as usual.”

“Uh-huh,” Shuuichi says in that tone he only uses with Kaito, like he doesn't believe him but is humoring him anyway.

Kaito huffs and reaches to muss Shuuichi's hair. “Okay, question answered. Now get back to work, we've only got a couple hours to burn.”

Shuuichi laughs again and smooths his ruffled locks back down. “All right, but when you're done staring out at the ocean, you should help too.”

“Hey, I was helping!” Kaito protests.

“No you weren't,” Maki says as she walks by with a bundle of driftwood in her arms.

Kaito makes an offended squawk, Shuuichi tries to muffle a giggle behind his free palm, and Maki, blunt as ever, tells him to get his ass in gear. Leave it to her to cut the bullshit, he guesses.

And so he does as he's told, for even as wounded as he acts, his worries have begun to recede with the tide.

-

The sun’s only just begun to set when Kirumi arrives with Tsumugi and Kaede in tow, and then Tenko and Himiko shortly afterwards. Kirumi’s brought some chicken to skewer and Tenko has ice cream for afterwards (provided it doesn’t melt and all) and Kaito finds himself thinking that hey, this is gonna be fun.

It gets dark quickly, but the spaces around them fill up just as quickly. Maki had stayed in the house a bit more to prepare the grill, and she and Kaede strike up a conversation as the former works on flipping whatever meat they’ve got prepared there. Miu’s got Gonta besides the bonfire, trying to convince him to let her put some lit sparklers in his braid.

And Ryoma’s having one conversation or other with Angie, and Rantaro’s talking with Korekiyo, and Kaito can spin around and spot everyone somewhere on their little clearing on the beach if he just squints and looks hard enough.

Everyone, of course, except for Kokichi.

A quick search on his phone confirms he hadn’t gotten arrested, for robbing a store or otherwise, and he hadn’t gotten into some tragic accident or other, so that just leaves the possibility of him simply not caring to show up.

That’s the result that Kaito should have expected, but, despite that, he finds his mood soured and sits on one of the logs by the bonfire, biting almost angrily away at one of the sugary-sweet ‘marshmallows’ that Miu had brought over. Shuuichi’s besides him, seemingly bemused.

“You know,” he says, “once upon a time, you’d be happy that Ouma-kun wasn’t showing up.”

“I am happy,” says Kaito unhappily.

“Mm-hmm,” says Shuuichi. “You sure?”

“Okay, well,” Kaito fumbles and gestures at nothing, “he should have shown up.”

“He should have,” Shuuichi agrees, and he doesn’t sound like he’s saying that just to placate Kaito, either. That in itself is calming, and Kaito breathes through his nose and closes his eyes.

“I just— It’s been a while,” he says slowly, trying to put the feelings he’s got below the surface into words, “and, I dunno. I wanted him to be here. I know I shouldn’t have expected jack _shit,_ but I did anyway, you know? And now I’ve gone and disappointed myself and it’s fucking infuriating.” He pinches his nose, and Shuuichi looks at him in silence as he counts down. “But I’m not gonna let my sour mood ruin everyone else’s, so, sorry about this.”

“There’s no need for you to apologize,” says Shuuichi gently, and Kaito flashes a toothy grin in Shuuichi’s direction.

“It’s fine! It doesn’t matter, because next time will be different.” He puts his hands on his thighs and nods to himself, self-assured. “Next time we’ll bring the party to Ouma, and he won’t be able to escape it, you know?”

“And I think that’s really great of you and all,” says Shuuichi, pulling at Kaito’s sleeve, “But I think that’s Ouma-kun? Over there.”

Kaito sits up and squints at the darkness outside their circle of fire. Sure enough, if he looks hard enough, he can spot someone with Kokichi’s form sitting on one of the grassy sand dunes on the beach, silhouetted against the sky.

“How long has he been there?”

“Oh, you know,” says Shuuichi, waving a dismissive hand, “at least a half hour or so. At least, that’s when I noticed him.”

Kaito groans, but after a minute or so of burning some marshmallows and wedging them between graham crackers and pieces of chocolate, he’s started his trek up the sand dune. Kokichi watches him as he comes up, a deep rooted pout on his face.

“It only took you, what, three hours?” says Kokichi, sniffling. “A-and I thought Momo-chan a-actually cared that I had taken the time to show up, b-but I guess he preferred it if I hadn’t in the f-first place—”

“You weren’t here for three hours, so shut up,” says Kaito, “and if you’re going to whine like that I won’t give you this smore.”

The tears dry up. “The what now?”

“Smore,” says Kaito, “It’s an American thing, I think? Iruma’s responsible.”

Kokichi looks over at the offering in Kaito’s hand, skeptical, but after a few moments reaches over and takes a bite of the treat. “You burned it,” he says around a piece of fluff, and Kaito chuckles as he sits down besides him.

“Mm-hmm,” he says. “Sorry.”

“You are not,” says Kokichi, “and I don’t believe I invited you to sit besides me.”

“I know you didn’t,” says Kaito.

“Let me put that more clearly, then. I don’t believe I gave you _permission_ to sit down besides me. You’re messing up the entire aura I had going on here.”

“Okay, well,” Kaito rolls his eyes, “will his highness Ouma Kokichi give me _permission_ to sit besides him?”

“Ehhh…” Kokichi swallows another bite of smore. “You’ll have to pay a fine later, but I’ll allow it for now.”

“Well thank _God.”_ Kaito rolls his eyes again. “I can only hope that I won’t end up in crippling debt.”

“You will!” Kokichi chirps.

And their conversation trails off there, banter that had once come so easily for the both of them in another lifetime now dying on their lips. Kokichi licks his sticky fingers, coming in and out of his mouth with audible _pops_ like he’s a little kid, and Kaito rests his chin on the palm of his hand and looks at the people making merry below. Their voices carry easily over the beach, and even from this distance, Kaito can pick out Miu’s boisterous claims and Kaede’s tinkling laugh.

Kaito side-eyes Kokichi. Once upon a time he would have been down there, wouldn’t he? Pulling mischief left and right and being the life of the party, revelling in the attention focused on _him._ And he’s always been cagey, yes, that’s come with the self-proclaimed liar shtick and all that, but that had been cagey in a more emotional sense.

Kokichi thrived around people, and here he was avoiding them.

Not like Kaito can blame him, of course. He’s read the meta fans of the series have written beforehand (as if they were fictional characters and not real living people, but he digressed) and as disconcerting as it had been, he had read posts from username TotallyARealTherapist637 explaining how “ofc ouma kun is shying from the public eye, he set up the whole game to be hated and then he turned out not to be dead ;p it must be kinda weird for him i dont think he really wants to be around the people he spent weeks trying to make loathe him as much as humanly possible”.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Kokichi chirps from besides him, and Kaito startles out of his thoughts. Kokichi laughs and says, “You really think too much for a person with a pea sized brain, Momo-chan. You’d best be careful or you’ll hurt yourself, you know?”

Kaito pulls himself together again and says, “Yeah, well. My brain’s shaped just fine, thanks very much.”

“Have you ever seen your brain?” says Kokichi. “In the flesh, I mean.”

“No, but—”

“Then how do you know your brain isn’t pea sized?”

“Because I’d be dead if it was,” says Kaito, “or comatose or some shit. I dunno exactly, I haven’t,” he breathes out through his teeth, “I specialize in the stars and sky n’ shit, not the human body.”

“How do you know you aren’t dead?” says Kokichi, looking up at said sky. Kaito follows his gaze. The stars twinkle blearily back at them, unfeeling balls of gas hundreds of thousands of miles above. “You know, maybe we already lived a life and we all just kinda sucked at being us, so whoever the big boss is up there said ‘eyy fucka youse’ and now this thing we’re living right now is hell.”

“Huh,” is all Kaito has to say in response to that. “Interesting.”

“Also, maybe you should specialize in the human body, considering. You know.” Kokichi mimes an over exaggerated cough and vomiting procedure, the entire spectacle taking an absurdly long time. “Since you’re dying and all!”

“I’m not anymore,” says Kaito, “one of the benefits of being one of the most famous people in the world. Get the best doctors on ya n’ shit.”

“You’re famous?!” Kokichi gasps overdramatically. “Mister Momo-chan-san-sama! Please sign my arm so I can amputate it and sell it for millions of yen online!”

Kaito snorts. “Not on your life.”

“But I’m an orphan.” Kokichi sniffles, and the light from the bonfire reflects on the faux tears already streaming down his face. “A-are you orphan phobic, Momo-chan? Are you just a cruel old miser? Do you just want me to die? Just say the word already, and I’ll—”

“I don’t want you to die,” says Kaito, “but I would like you to come down and hang out with everybody down there.” He gestures at the beach below.

The tears dry up in an instant. “So it’s a backhanded death sentence,” says Kokichi.

Kaito breathes through his teeth. “If that’s what you consider a death sentence then, sure. Whatever. Die, then.”

“You’ll perish before me,” says Kokichi, and he says it so matter of factly that Kaito’s a bit unnerved. He sniffs and wipes his nose with the back of his wrist.

“But seriously,” Kaito says, “I think it’d be nice if you came down and joined us all. We want you there, y’know.”

Kokichi’s face twists up as if he had bitten right into a lemon. “Momo-chan, I didn’t know you did weed,” he says innocently. “Can you hook me up with your dealer? They must be supplying you with something really strong.”

“I don’t do weed,” says Kaito. “You don’t need to be on something to want to hang out with you, Ouma.”

“Something really, really, super duper, extremely strong and you’ve nearly overdosed on it that’s how high in the sky you are right now.” Kokichi sniffs the air. “Is that a whiff of marijuana I smell on the salty sea breeze?”

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ Ouma,” says Kaito, leaning back on his elbows and pushing his hair back, “I get you’re you, but sometimes I just wanna say things without you making it devolve into shit like this.”

“And sometimes I don’t want to do that,” says Kokichi, “so we’re at a bit of an impasse, aren’t we?”

Kaito thumbs his chin. “I guess I just don’t entirely get why you’d come to the party and not even bother to go down and hang out with everyone.”

Kokichi tilts his head to the side, bangs falling like a curtain in front of his eyes. “And that’s why you’re an incredibly dim-witted and small minded person,” says Kokichi, “because you’re not really able to make sense of the reasoning of others when it doesn’t fit inside your own reasoning.”

“I think you need to take a look in the mirror there, pal,” snorts Kaito. “You’ve been pissed off to hell and back whenever people don’t fit into your own tiny square of reasoning. Like,” he gestures vaguely, “that’s why—”

Kaito bites his tongue before he says anything else, and Kokichi leaps on the opportunity all too eagerly.

“Why what, Momo-chan?”

“‘s nothing.” Kaito leans forward, avoiding eye contact. “Don’t even worry about it.”

“You know, every time that people say ‘don’t worry about it’, it’s usually something that should be worried about. Not just with you, but with everyone, really!” Kokichi cups his cheeks. “Is it something nasty? Were you gonna say something about dirty thoughts, Momo-chan?”

“No?!” Kaito’s expression pinches. “What the fuck?”

“Huh? It’s not?” Kokichi leans forward and puts his hands underneath his chin, propping himself up. “Then what is it, Momo-chan? What were you gonna say?”

“I’ll say if you come down to the bonfire,” says Kaito.

“What? No?! That doesn’t relate to the conversation at all,” gags Kokichi. “Are your brain cells dying off? Are you experiencing your bimbofication as we speak? Is that what you are, huh? Just a dumb little bimbo bitch?”

Kaito pinches his nose. “Just come down.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

_“Yes!”_

_“No!”_

“You’re running away, aren’t you?” says Kaito, and although it’s a spur of the moment thing, the momentum behind the statement keeps building and he rolls with it. “You don’t wanna come down because you’re running away from shit.”

“From what?” Kokichi rolls his eyes. “Not everything needs to have a deeper psychological meaning, Momo-chan. Some things are just how they’re presented - they’re shallower than the kiddie pool you need to swim in and that’s it.”

“I don’t swim in a kiddie pool, I have an ocean right outside my house, that’s number one, but number two, _some_ things don’t have any sort of deeper meaning, but you’re Ouma Kokichi.”

“I think I’m flattered?”

“You’re running away from the problem that’s come with being alive after all this time,” says Kaito, “because you fully expected to be dead years ago, right? I mean, all of us did so that’s a problem all of us share, but most of us either didn’t have it as bad as you did or in, like, Shinguuji’s case he can blame it on shitty writing. But for you…” Kaito thumbs his chin harder, reveling in the feeling of stubble pricking at his skin, “you’re Ouma, so you can’t really properly run away from things.”

“I think I’m not so flattered, now.” Kokichi snorts. “You’re talking in nonsense circles.”

“It’s pretty easy to run away from your problems, yeah, but… the farther you run away from properly dealing with all the hurt you’ve both caused and received, the more you hate yourself.” Kokichi falters in his rocking back and forth besides him, just for an instant, and Kaito swallows. He isn’t exactly sure how that makes him feel. “You know that all too well, don’t you?”

“You’re making it sound like I’m sort of coward,” says Kokichi, fake(?) appall in his voice. “Kaito, you have been using the therapist they gave you, right? It’s a wonder they haven’t addressed your tendency to project your own problems onto other people by this point. I’m really gonna have to have a talk with them so we can get this addressed before it becomes something incurable and you’re left with all these awful feelings for the rest of your life.”

“I’m not saying you’re a coward,” says Kaito, “and you’re very clearly deflecting right now.”

Kokichi mutters, “You’re a deflection.”

The ball’s stopped rolling, now, all the momentum of his accusation gone, and Kaito rubs his chin one more time before sighing. “Sure, sure.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Kokichi’s side-eyeing him, now, and Kaito frowns. “What is it?”

“You gave up on that awfully quickly,” Kokichi remarks.

“I didn’t give up on nothing,” Kaito says indignantly, and Kokichi’s only response is to roll his eyes and play with the grass in between his toes. Kaito fumes around in his own space for a moment before asking, “What do you mean by that, though?”

“Oh, nothing,” says Kokichi idly, “it just seems like you’ve been mellowing out after all these years.”

It’s delivered without a hint of malice or mischief in either his voice or expression, and that alone is enough to make Kaito sit and think on that for a bit.

“I’ve mellowed out,” says Kaito slowly, and Kokichi looks at him with new mirth twinkling in his eye.

“What, Momo-chan doesn’t like accepting the fact that he’s growing older?” Kokichi clicks his tongue disappointedly. “Or maybe he doesn’t like accepting the fact that he’s gone a long time being lonely."

_Lonely._

Kaito isn’t—

Kaito isn’t _lonely._ What the fuck?!

Kokichi tsks. “Profanity, there are _children_ about, Momo-chan,” and Kaito realizes that he had voiced his thoughts out loud. He groans and pulls at his scruff, but Kokichi isn’t done. “‘s fine. It comes with recovery and being older, I think.”

“I thought the conversation was about you running away from your own recovery,” says Kaito, but the argument sounds weak to even his ears. Kokichi blows out, letting his lips vibrate against each other.

“And here you were going off about _me_ deflecting.” Kokichi hums to himself. “For someone who goes out of his way to bring people under his wing whenever they show any sort of emotional vulnerability, you sure seem to be painfully unaware of your own feelings, you know?”

It’s not nice being lectured by _Kokichi_ of all people about his feelings, and Kaito rocks back on his knees, rubbing his teeth across his bottom lip. Kokichi’s staring at him in that really intense blank way he’s got, and Kaito has to breathe for a second before saying “It’s, not— It’s not like that. I know what I’m about.”

“Hmm, okay,” says Kokichi, “I see, I see.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“Nope!” Kokichi lets the word pop off his lips and laughs for a moment, shoulders shaking. “It takes a liar to know another one, after all.”

“Huh,” says Kaito, and Kokichi sighs almost blissfully.

“But there’s nothing…” he gestures vaguely, and Kaito realizes that for once, Kokichi is struggling with what to say. “There’s nothing wrong with. Mellowing out and… being sadder.”

Kaito isn’t sure how to respond to that.

“You’ve been all cooped up in your own little bubble of life for God knows how long, but you had this whole,” another vague gesture, “shebang and you’ve probably talked to more people today than you have for a month, right? That’s recovery, even if it’s three years after the fact. You’re growing into a different person after everything that’s happened, right down to your stupid fucking,” Kokichi scrunches his hands up in his hair, “‘do, and you might not be feeling really great yet, but you’re getting there. And that’s something, right? And that’s something. To be proud of.”

Kaito stares.

Kokichi looks away, lower lip stuck out in a pout as he rubs underneath his nose with a lone index finger. “As much as I’d prefer you fuck off and die n’ shit, maybe you should try being proud of yourself for a bit.”

It’s not something Kaito expected to come out of Kokichi’s mouth, and even though it’s out now, he still finds himself turning the words over and around in his head like a stone under water.

The killing game changed him into the person he is now, but there were three years in between the killing game and the ‘now’ to shape the person that he is. And those three years of on and off routine have made a difference.

But he doesn’t have long to ruminate on it as from down below, Shuuichi yells, “Hey, it’s starting!” and Kaito looks up to find the sky beginning to streak with an assortment of lights. It’s slow at first, a single star or two skipped across the sky’s watery expanse, but soon turns into a torrent that makes it impossible to look anywhere else. Kokichi’s looking up too, besides him—wide-eyed and begrudgingly impressed now that he doesn’t have anyone looking at him.

“We can stay right here,” says Kaito, barely audible over the excited noises from down below, “if... that’s what you’d like. Sure, I’d prefer if you came down and stuff, but if you feel better up here, I’m not gonna force you.”

Kokichi sniffs. “I wasn’t asking your permission to stay up here,” he says. “I was going to do so whether you gave me it or not.”

“Yeah, well,” Kaito waves a vague hand, “now you have it.”

“Jeez. Thanks. I dunno where I’d be without your overflowing generosity.” Kokichi side-eyes Kaito. “So are you gonna hurry up and fuck off, or…?”

“Nope.”

Kokichi sighs overdramatically. “I’ll just have to kill you in your sleep to teach you a lesson, then.”

The meteors continue to fall, but Kaito stays besides Kokichi in the darkness. There’s a space between them, a gap that neither of them are entirely comfortable with filling yet, but Kaito’s fine with that.

He’s pretty sure Kokichi is, too.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a project we have all worked on together for several months, and we are very excited to see it all come together. We hope you are as well!


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